Dream Walker
by Jordis Stigander
Summary: Sometimes dreams are meaningless. Sometimes they are memories. And sometimes they are promises. When Loki attacked the Earth, there was a promise for failure. And now he's running, running from dreams he knows are just the beginning. Vengeance is coming, and there will be no one to defend him. But he cannot outrun the dreams.
1. Chapter 1

_This is going to be a multi-chapter fic set two years after the Battle of New York. The story has been edited conform to Thor 2, so beware of spoilers. Please excuse the lack of Avengers in the first chapter; the next portion is too long to add without making this chapter ridiculously long._

_The Teen rating is for later chapters; there will be some violence and mentions of past assaults. I'll post any warnings at the beginning of the chapters._

* * *

Loki paced back and forth in his cell. He recited love ballads and war hymns, spells and sword exercises, the names of the stars and a recipe for honeyed mead.

Boredom and fatigue pulled at him. In the end, he knew his struggle was useless. His eyes would close, and they would return.

The dreams.

* * *

Miyako Ayuma had seen many strange things.

Being around SHIELD had really changed how Miya watched science fiction; she no longer doubted that werewolves might ravage small towns or that mad scientists might randomly unleash giant lizards on their students. She was simply surprised by how shocked the actors seemed to be when things like that happened.

So when one considered how many strange and exotic things happened in the career of a SHIELD agent, it was a bit disappointing that the most important of her day for the past two months involved kitty litter receipts. This explained why, on yet another mind-numbing Tuesday afternoon, she was half tempted to give in when Vahan tried to pawn off his report on her.

But only half.

Apparently something had gone, very, very wrong on his latest operation, and she still didn't have a death wish. Yet.

"I need you to give this to Fury," Agent Vahan said, leaning on her desk, holding a report in front of him, "If I can avoid him until next week, things should have improved enough that he'll only maim me."

"You really think you can hide from the Director for an entire week? Do you have an invisibility cloak or a portal into another dimension you're not telling me about?" Miya answered, not looking up from the report she was typing. It was hard to pretend to be focused on how many bags of kitty litter this target went through a week.

She really hadn't expected her career to end up like this. Stuck behind a desk in a bland office with five other agents, assigned to an operation named, of all things, "Beachsweep." The title did not rank very highly on Miya's list of interesting titles for covert operations. It sounded more like she was on a cheap cruse than working for a secretive government agency.

Her involvement in the rather banal surveillance operation was as disappointing as its name. She typed up tidy little reports on the collected data to be skimmed and ignored by the Powers-That-Be. Miya was an excellent analyst, but one could only describe the significance of a target's affection for his cats in so many ways before going mad.

And Vahan really wasn't helping her maintain her sanity.

"I'm reaching out to you in my hour of need," Vahan said, "are you truly so heartless? Does our friendship mean nothing to you?" He gave her a look which must have been an attempt at puppy dog eyes.

"Friendship has its limits, I'm afraid," Miya replied, unimpressed, "If there are regulations against killing the messenger, I doubt Fury got the memo."

"We're SHIELD agents," Vahan gestured wildly, catching a stack of files on the sleeve of his grey suit, nearly knocking them off her desk, "we face death every day and laugh."

"Then start laughing," she responded, rescuing the files, "there are too many things in this life for me to seek Death by Fury. Such as finishing this report and getting approval to carry a katana."

"As if you have anything pressing to finish as a part of Beachsweep," he snorted, peering over her shoulder, "It really is impossible to say that name with a straight face."

"Thanks for reminding me," Miya said, "As if my morale wasn't low enough."

"Have the higher-uppers shown any interest in those side projects you've been working on?"

Miya shook her head, dark braid swaying back and forth. "Not that I've heard," she said with a sigh, "I'm starting to feel like a conspiracy theorist; I wish they would tell me whether I'm paranoid or not."

Vahan gave her a look. "You are paranoid."

"More paranoid than usual, then," Miya corrected herself, "if you want to procrastinate some more, you can look over the last one I turned in. I've got an extra copy in that folder."

"The weather one, right?" he said. The tall man leaned against her desk and flipped the file open. "You really suggested naming it Hoarfrost?"

"Hoarfrost is a word for ice crystals," she retorted, "what's wrong with it?"

"Just try saying it out loud again."

Miya winced. "Just read it or leave, Vahan." For a few moments the room was silent except for the click of keys and the shuffle of paper.

"I'm considering requesting a transfer back to New York," she said suddenly. Vahan's head darted up from the report, surprised.

"What? Miya, I know that you've been frustrated, but…"

"I'm not frustrated, Vahan. I'm going crazy. The only thing that's been keeping me from jumping off the side of the Helicarrier is these side projects, and no one's paid any attention to them at all."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, no one but you." Though Miya had her suspicions that Vahan was only feigning interest because he was assigned to monitor her. Which was another depressing fact she really didn't want to think about right now. She ran her hand over her face and sighed.

"Back in New York, I was as a high level analyst and field agent. I thought getting transferred to the Helicarrier was a kind of promotion, but I haven't been sent on a single away mission, my clearance has been suspended, and I'm stuck behind a desk assigned to projects the greenest recruit could complete on his lunch break. I can't even carry my katanas onboard until I'm granted 'special permission.'

"Now I can understand why I haven't been sent on away missions. I don't look impressive physically..." Vahan snorted at her understatement. At a slender 5'6", Miya didn't exactly strike fear into the heart of evil-doers. "It might take time for a superior officer to gain an understanding of my combat skills. But," she kept her voice calm despite her rising frustration, "this does _not_ excuse the blatant disregard for my skills as an analyst."

"Look, I know this is hard," Vahan said in a comforting tone. Miya hid her flinch when he laid his hand on her shoulder. "But it takes time to work your way through the hierarchy around here."

My greatest contribution to SHIELD these past two months involved deducing that a target had adopted another cat," Miya replied dryly, "I'm not certain why I was transferred if this is the type of work I'm going to be assigned. To be honest, I don't know why I joined SHIELD anymore. How is analyzing kitty litter going to help save the world?"

Vahan stared at her for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed. "I'm sorry, but that really wasn't something I expected to hear today." Sobering, he added gently, "Look, I know this is hard. But we don't get to see the big picture. What you're doing may seem small and meaningless to you, but it takes a thousand small, meaningless things to make up one big, world-saving thing. So don't give up yet, okay?"

Miya bit her lip and looked down. Returning to New York would mean she'd be back in the field. She wouldn't have to wait another three months before the Powers-That-Be granted her permission to carry her katanas on the Helicarrier. And she'd be closer to home.

On second thought, maybe it'd be better if she stayed on the Helicarrier.

"I guess I'll tough it out little longer. Now you'd better deliver your report before Fury hunts you down," she reminded him. Vahan grimaced.

"Some friend you are, throwing me to the wolves like that."

"My instinct for self-preservation is too strong to ignore," Miya answered, taking the folder from him, "Survival of the fit and all that. Now leave me in peace to describe the significance of Mr. Guilroy's lint roller purchases. I might be on the verge of a breakthrough here."

Vahan opened his mouth to reply, but was silenced by a quiet ping which emanated from Miya's screen.

Miya clicked on the memo and frowned.

_Report to Assistant Director Hill's office at fifteen-hundred hours_.

"Three pm?" Vahan read over her shoulder, "And it's already 2:40. What would Hill want to see you about on such short notice?"

"Vahan," Miya said, plastering a winning smile across her face, "You wouldn't consider a trade, would you?"

He grinned back at her.

"Her office is on the other side of the Helicarrier…I suggest you run."

* * *

Loki leaned against the wall, his fingers playing with a scrap of blue ribbon. Slowly, his eyelids began to flicker lower and lower.

His breathing evened out as his chest rose and fell.

The ribbon fluttered to the ground.

* * *

"Did you write these reports?" Hill asked. She gestured to a pile of manila folders on her desk. Miya's heart sank a little as she picked them up.

A potential rift between dimensions. A cult conducting genetic experiments. Suspected abduction of mutant children. Interconnected weather patterns.

They were all there.

"Yes," she said, looking Hill in the eyes.

She figured there were two basic directions this conservation could head.

There was the optimistic version. Hill would ask her something like, "What led you to assume that there was an interlinking cause of these phenomenons?" Following that would be a conversation detailing how she'd noticed aberrant weather patterns across Europe that appeared to originate in East Germany. These storms could not be explained through natural causes or global warming. This would lead to a discussion of possible sources, such as A.I.M. experiments or a mutant whose powers were out of control.

And then there was the pessimistic version. This conversation went along the lines of "On a scale of one to ten, how big of a nut job are you?"

Miya wasn't a big fan of that one.

"Do you have any idea why you were assigned to Project Beachsweep?" Hill asked, "Why you suddenly lost your clearance level?"

Miya blinked. This didn't fit within her pre-determined lines of questioning. "I assumed that is was protocol. That I had to work my way up from the bottom. Or" she added, "That I'd really managed to tick someone off."

"You were assigned to to Beachsweep under the recommendation of," Hill paused for effect, "Agent Phil Coulson."

Miya felt as though Hill had reached across the table and slapped her.

_Coulson?_

"Why would Coulson recommend this?" she asked, voice steady despite her reeling head, "when I was transferred, he said he'd highly recommended me." _'You're one of the best I've trained'_ were his exact words. She hadn't told anyone what he'd said. Coulson was not the kind to pass out compliments lightly, and she'd treasured those words.

"Coulson told us to give you two months with nothing to do," Hill said as she pulled out another manila folder, "And to watch what happened."

She opened the folder and started pulling out papers.

"A rift between dimensions was sealed last month with the help of a Doctor Strange. We were able to catch it before it grew to an unmanageable size." She set the report on the desk and grabbed another. "A SHIELD strike force busted a lab belonging to the cult of Mag Sleact. They were trying to resurrect a Celtic death deity named Crom Cruatch through the use of gene splicing, among other things. In the meantime, they'd created a series of monsters they were preparing to release as an act of worship. Both the research and the experiments have been destroyed."

_I wasn't crazy after all_, Miya thought as she examined the reports.

_Coulson believes in me!_

_That's why I've been stuck studying kitty litter receipts for two months_.

_I'm so going to punch Coulson._

_Repeatedly._

_In the face_.

_And then bake him cookies._

Hill obviously noted the relaxed and rather pleased look that passed over her face. "Not all of your conclusions were correct, I must add. The 'missing' mutant children, for example, have all been enrolled in Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Students. But this was still impressive, considering how low your clearance level was."

"Was?" Miya interjected. The corner of Hill's mouth pulled upwards.

"You heard correctly; you're being promoted." Hill opened a drawer and started to pull out various items, including a new ID card and several manila folders. "As of now, your Level 7 clearance has been reinstated and you are promoted to team leader," Hill said, handing over the ID, "and receive all the rights and responsibilities associated with such. You will be required to sign these nondisclosure agreements," she presented a large folder, "become familiar with the following protocols and codes," two more folders, "pick up your new gear," a stack of request forms, "and prepare for your first mission," two folders and a mammoth binder. SHIELD really had an unhealthy obsession with manila folders. The next time aliens invaded, Miya thought, they should just chunk paperwork at them.

Miya looked at the project title on the engorged files. "Operation Blackfrost?" she said with dimming comprehension.

"Yes," Hill said, "we simply had to change the name. Stark still hacks our servers from time to time, and we'd never hear the end of it if we used the name you suggested."

Miya flipped it open and skimmed the information with anticipation.

"Your involvement with Beachsweep is finished," Hill informed her, "Agent Vahan will show you to your new office."

Miya's head popped up from the folder.

"Office?" she gasped.

"Office," Vahan said from the open door behind her. He was grinning broadly.

"Dismissed, Agent Ayuma," Hill told her.

Miya thanked her and shook her hand, exiting the office with a pile of folders clutched to her chest.

"How'd the meeting go?" Vahan asked her, a smug grin on his face as he led her through the maze of hallways.

Miya grinned wryly back at him.

"Like you don't already know," she said, "and don't even try looking innocent. Hill assigned you to keep tabs on me, didn't she?"

"She wanted first-hand reports on your work," he said in acknowledgement, "personally, I voted that we end this trial run weeks ago, but Hill is a stickler for the rules. She insisted that we wait until the two month deadline." He chuckled. "You have no idea how nervous you made me when you started talking about transferring. I was afraid you might throw your resignation in Hill's face before she told you the good news."

"That woman is as rigid as Steve Roger's back in a roomful of strippers. If regulations demanded that all reports must be sung and accompanied by a dance number, Hill would issue a memo with suggested jazz shoes and choreographers."

Vahan snorted at the thought. "Just out of curiosity, did you just figure out that I was keeping tabs on you, or did I give myself away earlier?"

"You've been trying to get me to do your dirty work for weeks," she told him, "and your attempts always met with failure. There was no possibility you actually expected to manipulate me into running errands for you. Not unless you were an incurable optimist or incredibly stupid. That, and you were the only one remotely interested in my extracurricular analysis. I knew something had to be up." Vahan groaned.

"You should have heard the theories the other agents had," Miya told him in mock comfort, "it was generally accepted that either you were a serial procrastinator or had a weird way of expressing attraction." Vahan rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort.

"Well, now that that's been cleared up," he said, "congratulations on the promotion." He opened the door to a large shared office space. They walked between the empty desks and came to a stop outside a door at the end of the room.

The nameplate on the door read 'Agent Miyako Ayuma'.

"Who else works in this office?" Miya asked, looking around at the unused space.

"This is for your team," Vahan said, cheerfully.

"Team?" Miya asked.

"Team," he affirmed, grinning, "You wouldn't be much of a team leader without team, would you? Don't worry; they won't be moving in here until tomorrow, so you'll have a chance to get used to this before you meet them. Their files are on your desk." He opened the office door for her.

"Everything was transferred while you were meeting with Hill," Vahan said, "And now I've got to go. I'll see you around." Miya entered the office (_her_ office), and he closed the door behind her.

The office was small, but private. Her computer was on the desk along with her files and gear. A large brown box was perched on a shelf in the corner of the room.

Miya dumped everything in her arms onto the desk and sat down in her new chair. She spun around in it, laughing, letting everything sink in. Pulling out her phone, she hit speed-dial. It rang exactly one and a half times before the owner answered in an even tone.

"This is Agent Phil Coulson."

"Hey Boss," she said, "Have something you want to tell me?" She propped her booted feet up on the desk, avoiding the towering stacks of files.

"I suppose I should inform you how fascinating your reports have been. Especially the one where Fluffy goes to the vet. It was quite gripping."

"You've been reading my reports?" she said in a shocked tone, "why, Coulson, you never said you cared." She could perfectly imagine the nonexpression on his face in her mind.

"Agent Hill talked to you today," he said, more a statement than a question.

"Yes, just a few minutes ago. Two months of kitty litter receipts; that's going on the list." She cleared her throat, glancing at the box on her shelf. "Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you. For recommending me."

_For believing in me. For being the first, the only._

She didn't say that part. She didn't need to.

"No problem," he replied, "Now, if I'm not mistaken, you've got a long night ahead of you."

Miya said goodbye and hung up the phone. She knew she should probably call her mother, but she could always do that later. Instead she turned to her computer. With Level 7 clearance and as a team leader, Miya now had the authority to make grant certain requests autonomously…say an application to carry katanas. She smiled to herself; life couldn't be better.

* * *

_Asgard was burning._

_Flames licked the city walls as the screams of the inhabitants mingled with the clash of weapons. Those left alive fought on, desperately, futilely._

_No enemy had assaulted the gates. No adversary had overcome them. The Asgardians themselves tore one another apart. Warriors, driven mad, killed their families and drank their blood. Only after the deeds were complete would they wake from one nightmare into another._

_Odin sat motionless upon his throne, ignoring the flames that threatened to engulf the room and the son who approached him with lightening at his fingers. Blank-eyed, Thor stepped over Sif's broken body as he stalked towards the All-Father._

_"**Are you prepared, fallen prince? Prepared to pay the price of your failure?**"_

Loki woke with a start. He was coming for him. There would be no mercy.

* * *

_Author's note:_

Comments and criticism are both welcome.

"I spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly because you tread upon my dreams."- Yeats


	2. Chapter 2

_*This is Agent Miyako Ayuma, leader of Operation Blackfrost. We're approaching the center of the anomaly. It appears to be originating from within the mountain, I repeat, from within the mountain.*_

_*We've located what appear to be massive doors, and sonic tests indicate that there is a large structure carved into the mountain itself…we are now searching for a method to gain access into the building…* _

* * *

Clint Barton glanced around the conference room. Banner was fidgeting with his sleeves while Stark fired off ideas to him at a rapid pace. Across the table Captain Rogers was doodling on the back of a manila folder, and Clint could make out sketches of the SHIELD logo, a woman's smiling face, and...was that Tony the Hulk was sitting on? Yet despite the friendly atmosphere, the tension was so thick Clint could have cut it into strips and used it for target practice. Even Natasha was on edge, her eyes darting around the room from her seat beside him. It had been a while since the Avengers had assembled. Everyone was here except for...

"Thor!" Steve rose from his seat, reaching out to clasp hands as the Asgardian entered the room. "I didn't expect to see you Earth side anytime soon," he said with a grin, "How've you been?"

"I have been well, Captain Rogers," Thor assured him. He greeted Dr. Banner and the two assassins before turning to the reclining billionaire. "Man of Iron, it is good to see you."

"Looking good, Pikachu. You here to visit your girlfriend or something?" Tony's tone was light, but Clint could see how Thor's face darkened at his words.

"I fear I have come on a more serious matter. Director Fury, you have not told them?" All eyes turned to one-eyed man standing at the head of the table. His face was blank.

"I thought you would prefer to tell them yourself," Fury answered him. Thor nodded in thanks, and then hesitated. His large fingers played with the edges of his cape.

"My friends, I regret to inform you that my brother has…run away."

* * *

_He was running, running from dreams he knew were just the beginning. He followed silent paths through the stars most had long forgotten and few would dare traverse, and the darkness embraced him as he fled._

_Vengeance was coming, and when it caught him, there would be no one to defend him._

_No one would dare._

_No one would care enough to try._

_So he ran with darkness in his wake. He would retrieve what he had lost and find a place to hide: a barren world, a moon, the shadow of a dying star. In time, he would find a way to save himself._

_But he could not outrun the dreams._

* * *

"Run away?" the incredulous tone of Steve's voice was echoed in the expressions on the other Avenger's faces. "How did this happen? Wasn't he under any sort of surveillance?"

"I've got to agree with Cap here," Stark said, "Shouldn't he be in a magic cell of doom or something?" Thor's face tightened with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

"Forget prison," Clint interjected, "I heard he was dead. Killed by the Dark Elves."

"Loki was believed dead, but we later learned that he had faked his death. When he was recaptured, he was sent back into prison."

"So he could escape again and come kill more humans. Great plan," Clint said with bitterness in his voice. Natasha reached under the table and placed a restraining hand on his arm, squeezing gently. He glanced at her and forced himself to take deep, calming breaths.

"So basically," Tony continued for him, "Gumby fights some Keebler Elves and Daddy lets him off the hook. Please tell me you at least installed a tracking chip before you let him loose."

"It was not as simple as you make it sound!"

"What, did you make him cross his heart and hope to die first?"

"All right, everybody calm down!" Steve ordered firmly. Tony was about to snap back at him when an even voice interrupted him.

"Arguing aboard the Helicarrier is probably not a good idea," Banner observed wryly, "Last time we argued here it nearly fell out of the sky and the Other Guy came out to play." Clint found himself checking for a hint of green in those intelligent brown eyes.

"I'm sure Thor has an explanation if you would let him speak, Stark," Steve offered as the man was momentarily silent.

"Okay, Mom. I'll be a good boy. So, Thor, why did you let Vanity Fair off the leash?"

* * *

_"Impossible," Miya whispered under her breath. She moved forward slowly, step by tiny step, through the ice-covered heart of the mountain._

_She pulled out her receiver to contact headquarters, her gloved fingers fumbling with the controls. She pulled her right glove off with her teeth and activated the device._

_*This is Agent Miyako Ayuma of Operation Blackfrost* she began, voice echoing through the silent halls. The only other noise was the crunch of ice beneath the agents' boots and the soft sound of their breathing._

_*We've entered some kind of structure; we're uncertain at the moment what it was meant to be, a palace or a fortress or a temple. Everything is covered in ice: the ceiling, the walls, the pillars, the floor…*_

_*The entire building seems to be reinforced with magic more than a thousand years old. But we're picking up traces of something newer; Wilde estimates that it's only two or three years old. Someone else has been here recently: someone with magical capabilities.*_

_Miya broke off suddenly. A strange blue light trickled from a doorway ahead. She motioned to her teammates, and they cautiously approaching the entrance._

_Rounding the corner, she inhaled suddenly as surprise covered her face._

* * *

Thor fought to hide the annoyance on his face.

"We did not let Loki 'off the leash'," Thor informed the billionaire stiffly, "Loki's life was spared because of his assistance against the Dark Elves, but nothing more. He was still confined when he disappeared."

Thor began to pace around the room, his red cape billowing behind him.

"Somehow, he managed to escape his confines, evade his guards, and leave Asgard, all while remaining hidden from Heimdail's sight. Even the All-Father cannot comprehend how he accomplished it."

Clint muttered something under his breath about shock collars and Alcatraz, followed a quiet yelp when Natasha elbowed him in the ribs.

"Do you know why he escaped or where he's heading?" Steve asked.

"I do not know why he left; his departure was sudden and without warning. Loki took ancient paths even Heimdail had forgotten and no other Asgardian can tread. It was impossible to follow him, but we believe we know his destination."

Tony sat up suddenly.

"Wait…no. Please. PLEASE tell me he isn't headed here."

* * *

_"Wilde," Miya said, "tell me something. According to your best estimate, when did this new magic appear?"_

_"I hate to be specific before I collect more data, but I would say about two years ago."_

_"Around the time the anomalies started appearing in the weather?"_

_"That would be plausible," he said, peering at his scanner._

_"Let me look at the energy readings again." Miya took the scanner from him, half-hoping her suspicions would prove false. But the energy signatures seemed so familiar._

_She looked at the scanner, and she remembered._

_Two years ago. The day Coulson had died. She had studied these same signatures as if she was in a trance, hoping to find an answer._

_But then Coulson had returned, and she had set aside everything to do with the monster that had killed him._

_She pulled out her transmitter._

_*This is Agent Ayuma, Operation Blackfrost. I need to speak with Director Fury or Assistant Director Hill. Tell them it concerns Loki.*_

* * *

"I am sorry," Thor's shoulders dropped slightly, "but Loki is returning to Midgard."

"Midgard?" Tony relaxed, relief flooding his face as he leaned back in his chair, "You had me scared for a moment. Well, it sucks to be Midgard, but at least he isn't coming to…"

Fury interrupted him.

"Midgard is Earth."

"Tartar Sauce."

* * *

_Miya winced a bit as Hill swore. The woman began to bark out orders, and Miya turned down the volume in her earpiece._

_Her eyes flitted back to the strange altar at the end of the room. Encased within was the source of the strange blue light._

_*Ayuma?* Miya turned up the sound on her earpiece. *There's a situation developing here. Gather every scrap of intel you can find. I'll expect updates every half hour.*_

_Acknowledging the order, Miya took one last look before she left the frozen hall. The blue light of the casket danced across her face, causing her jet black eyes to glow and pulse with a cold light._

* * *

_Author's note:_

Thanks to anyone taking the time to read this bit of silliness. I'm going to do my best to update once a week.

Comments and criticism are both welcome. "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." - Edgar Allen Poe


	3. Chapter 3

Fury grimly surveyed the overheated conference room. Agents were packed in tightly, filling every available seat and lining the walls.

"I'm sure that you have all heard the rumor," he began, "that Loki is returning to Earth. I must inform you that this rumor is true." Murmurs broke out across the room.

Fury held up a hand, and the room fell silent. Mostly silent, anyway.

"I know you all have questions concerning this. You will be provided with a full report containing all relevant details after this meeting has concluded. What's important is that he's coming back. And we have a theory as to where." Fury nodded to Maria Hill, his second in command, and she stepped forward.

"Three hours ago, a SHIELD team penetrated a hidden stronghold," Hill stated, "They detected energy signatures that match those left by Loki two years ago. They also found this." A glowing blue object appeared on screens scattered around the room. Clint leaned forward and enlarged the image in front of him. "Thor has identified this as the 'Casket of Winters,' an artifact of power which Loki took from Asgard before his attack on Earth. It is likely that Loki stored the Casket within the mountain and is now returning with the intent of retrieving the Casket."

"Question," Clint said from his customary seat besides Natasha, "What exactly does this 'Casket' do? Are we dealing with another Tessaract?" The simultaneous thought of the assembled SHIELD agents was nearly audible. _'Just what we need: another Asgardian artifact to fight over.'_

"The Casket of Ancient Winters has little in common with the Tessaract apart from their appearance and the fact that both belong to my father," Thor replied, "The Tessaract contains unlimited energy while within the Casket lies the power to plunge your entire realm into another ice age."

"How is it that incredibly powerful artifacts belonging to your father keep winding up on Earth?" Tony asked, "I feel like we've been designated as an Asgardian Lost and Found."

"If this Casket is that powerful," Clint continued, ignoring Tony, "why did Loki hide it? Why didn't he use it to conquer Earth?"

"I wish I could tell you," Thor answered him, "When Loki did not produce it in battle, I simply assumed he had lost the Casket within the Void or had given it up as collateral for his army. It is a powerful weapon, and that he should not use such an advantage is baffling."

"Where exactly is this fortress?" Steve asked, leafing through the report in his hands.

"The fortress is in Eastern Germany inside the Alps," Fury answered.

"Inside?" Steve said, noticing the unusual phrase.

"Yes," Fury said, "The Casket is located inside a mountain." Steve cocked his head to the side.

"Inside a mountain?" he repeated in surprise.

"Inside a freaking mountain," Fury affirmed, "Over a thousand years ago someone took the time to carve a freaking fortress-temple into the side of a freaking mountain."

"Who?" Steve asked.

"Someone with way too much freaking time on their hands," Fury answered, "The team is still trying to determine their identity, so at this point we don't know who, when, why, or how. We're not even sure if it's meant to be a fortress, a temple, a palace, or even a tomb." Steve digested this information.

"What's been done to secure the Casket?" Clint asked.

"The team has been proceeding with extreme caution in regards to the Casket," Hill told him, "It appears Loki placed a protection spell of some kind upon it, and we would prefer to refrain from moving it until we can be certain that attempting to do so will not level the Alps."

"It was wise of you not to touch it," Thor advised the room, "the Casket is dangerous and there is no telling how it might affect a mortal. It likely would have killed whoever tried." Hill silently filed this knowledge away to use the next time someone argued SHIELD protocols were too cautious.

"As for the protection spell Loki cast, I doubt it is dangerous," Thor said, a thoughtful look upon his face, "often in our younger years Loki would place spells upon objects to prevent others from taking them. The item simply will not move until the original caster disables the spell. Only a powerful sorcerer would be able to counteract it."

"So basically, you're saying that the Casket isn't moving unless Loki comes for it," Steve said. Muffled groans were heard across the rooms as Thor confirmed it. "So either we let Loki get his hands on the Casket or we just leave it in the Alps indefinitely."

"Leaving the Casket in the Alps is not a long-term option," Banner interjected, lifting his head from the report in front of him. "According to the data here, the Casket has been having an increasing effect on the weather in Eastern Europe. That's how SHIELD managed to find it in the first place. Over time, the results could be catastrophic."

"You're not suggesting we allow a psychopathic supervillain with world-conquering tendencies to just walk off with a box containing the next ice age?" Hill objected. Thor bristled a bit at the not-so flattering depiction of his brother.

"I'm not suggesting we allow Loki to take it," Banner said, "But we can't afford to leave it there unless we're willing to sacrifice Europe and Asia."

"How about we capture Loki as soon as he lands and just force him to unlock the Casket?" Steve suggested. Thor shook his head.

"You obviously do not comprehend the depths of my brother's stubbornness. I do not foresee a situation in which he would willingly hand over the Casket to anyone, let alone mortals."

"We could just have a press release and announce that we've solved global warming," Tony suggested. He was either ignored or glared at. Dr. Banner played with his glasses nervously, "Thor, if Loki removed the spell from the Casket, how much time would pass before he secured it?"

"It would take a few seconds for the spell to fully dissipate."

Bruce fidgeted for a moment. "And just how stable is the mountain the Casket is stored within?"

"The structure itself is highly stable. If I may," Hill borrowed his screen and brought up the schematics for all to see, "The temple was thoroughly reinforced with magic at the time of its creation. Conservatively, we would estimate it would survive a direct nuclear strike."

"Would it would survive the Other Guy?" Banner asked, eyes shifting. The tension in the room suddenly rose as people tried not to stare in his direction.

"What is it you have in mind, Dr. Banner?" Fury questioned. The scientist brushed his shaggy brown hair to the side, his habitual wry smile pulling at his lips.

* * *

"Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore," Captain Rogers muttered. Bundled from head to toe in protection against the frigid weather, he stood with the rest of the team on the side of the mountain, waiting for the members of Operation Blackfrost to open the doors to the fortress.

"You survived as a Capsicle for over seventy years," Tony reminded him. It was somewhat hypocritical, seeing how his Iron Man armor was internally heated.

"And you were kept in a cave for three months by terrorists," Steve retorted, "did you enjoy that?" Their discussion was cut short by a cracking sound as a layer of ice shattered. Two massive doors began to swing open, revealing a yawning opening in the side of the mountain. The insides of the doors were elaborately carved with strange scenes and inscriptions.

"Are we going to stare," Clint asked, "Or are we going inside where it's warmer?"

* * *

Warmer was a relative term.

Everything was covered in a layer of ice. It coated the walls and the ceiling, the pillars and the floor, making the room look as though it was the throne room of the White Witch. Giant stalactites, too large to be called icicles anymore, dangled from the distant ceiling.

The air was fairly still inside the mountain in contrast to the wild gusts that buffeted the exterior. The doors had opened to a long hallway branching off into various empty rooms. White pillars supported a massive roof, and beneath the ice the walls were covered in the same strange inscriptions which had decorated the door.

"Watch your step," Miya said in warning. "The floor can be quite slick in some places." She stood halfway down the hall, equipment in hand. "Agent Miyako Ayuma reporting," she said, approaching Captain Rogers, "relinquishing command of Operation Blackfrost, sir."

Tony Stark flipped open his face-plate in surprise.

"But you're not Asian," he said, accusingly, "Why aren't you Asian?"

Clint Barton face palmed.

"Seriously?" he groaned, "Stark, you can't just ask people why they're not Asian."

On paper, Miya sounded Asian; black hair, black eyes, light skin, smaller build, Japanese name. In person it was clear that she was of European descent.

And this was not the first (nor the last) time it seriously confused people.

"Her name is Japanese," Tony said insistently, "why isn't she?" He pursed his lips and squinted his eyes, looking at Miya intently. "So what was it? Secret identity? Shape shifting? Facial reconstruction? Or maybe a face transplant?"

"If we could get back to the issue at hand…" Steve said with a trace of irritation.

"This is important," Tony cut him off breezily, "it could be aliens. Or maybe hippie parents. Dangerous either way. So tell me, Ms. Not-Asian, what is it?"

"I contracted a freak virus which randomly changes ethnicity," Miya told him dryly, "but you can rest easy, Mr. Stark. There's no danger of you contracting it; it only affects those under forty."

Tony's response was cut off by an ominous booming sound. Multiple team members jumped. The doors had shut, sealing them off from the outside world.

"Are they supposed to do that?" Steve asked uneasily.

"The doors automatically close after everyone has passed through," Miya answered him, "Don't worry; it's easy to open them again." By this time, the only light within the room came from electric light in her hand and the glowing arc reactor in Stark's chest. Multiple team members fumbled for flashlights.

"How did you open the doors?" Dr. Banner asked curiously. His eyes roamed over the ornate surface. Miya felt a small surge of pride as she explained.

"There were traces of residual energy from the last time someone opened the doors," Miya answered, "Loki, we assume. We were able to piggyback onto the signature and copy his work." Banner listened with interest.

"And here my teachers always told me cheating was wrong," Tony commented, "If only I had learned this sooner."

"Cheating is such an ugly word. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," Miya replied, "so let's just say Loki should feel very flattered."

"You managed to replicate magic?" Rogers asked, surprised.

"As our Asgardian friends are fond of telling us, magic is simply science we don't yet understand," she said, glancing towards Thor. He had been very quiet, speaking only when strictly necessary. "So I could say we copied the advanced Asgardian science to open the door, if you prefer. Now if you want, sir, I'll give you the grand tour."

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Stark asked, closing his visor, "No chance we can't head somewhere warm, like Hawaii or Mexico, or maybe the center of a volcano?"

"If you want, I can always arrange to drop you off in one on the way back," Miya replied, leading the way down the empty hall.

* * *

Under Miya's guidance the team had set up temporary living quarters in one of the rooms directly off the main hall. It was rather spartan, but hopefully they wouldn't have to live here long before Loki showed up.

When they arrived (after stopping first to gawk at the Casket in the main hall), Captain Rogers gathered all the agents together to explain 'The Plan'.

"We have every reason to believe that when Loki returns to Earth, he will attempt to retrieve the Casket," he paced in front of them in a subconscious attempt to warm himself, "so we are going to be waiting for him. When he arrives, each of us will assume positions around the Main Hall. After Loki has disengaged the protective spell, Thor will strike him with Mjolnir, knocking him out of range of the Casket. Dr. Banner will then drive Loki into one of the rooms on the north side of the hall. While Loki is occupied, Thor will assist us in first securing the Casket, and then Loki.

"Until Loki arrives, we will be living inside the mountain, doing our best to avoid leaving any sign that we are here. This may take weeks, or it may take hours, so prepare yourselves. Are there any questions?"

Miya raised her hand. It was time to address the elephant in the room.

"With all due respect to Dr. Banner, the Hulk is not easy to predict. How do you know the Hulk will cooperate and not start attacking our people? How do you know Loki will run from him?" All eyes turned to Bruce. His fidgeting was barely noticeable under the layers of clothing he was wearing.

"There's a big difference between a controlled release and an uncontrolled one. The Other Guy is generally more agreeable when I purposely let him out, particularly when there's a specific target in mind. And from what I remember, he doesn't like Loki very much, and I think the feeling is mutual. I doubt Loki's eager for a second smashing."

Tony Stark grinned fondly at Bruce's words; his security cameras had caught the entire Hulk-smashing-Loki incident on tape. Whenever he felt depressed he liked to play it on repeat. He'd even preserved one of the Loki shaped imprints in the floor by filling it with clear acrylic.

"What if Loki manages to get his hands on the Casket?" Miya asked, "What is our contingency plan?" She loved a good contingency plan. Heaven knew how many times she'd fallen back on one.

"Plan B," Tony said, cutting off Steve's answer, "Plan B being to knock the snot out of him again and hand him back to Daddy, this time to a hopefully more secure jail cell. Which is why I've brought the toys." A couple of agents dragged forward some large crates. Tony threw open the lids with a flourish.

"Gather round," he said, grabbing a handful of devices, "there's more than enough to share. But when I say sharing, I mean temporarily; I want all of these back, okay? Or whatever's left of them."

Tony Stark was a born showman. One by one, he displayed and explained his creations with the air of a traveling salesman. Sonic rifles, adhesive nets, electricity throwers (like a flamethrower, but with water and a Taser), neural dampeners.

"These babies will send someone into REM sleep instantly," Tony said, displaying his final device. It was a smooth metal disk, small enough to fit in the palm of a hand, "I didn't intend to use them as a weapon initially, but the FDA refused to approve them as sleep aids. All you have to do is to apply them to the target's skin and turn it on. The sucker will be out like a light, and he'll stay like that until someone turns off the disk."

"This has to be applied by hand," Barton objected, "I thought the plan was to take Loki out long-range."

"I'm more concerned about how to avoid knocking myself out," Natasha said, "and if this will even work on an Asgardian." Tony shrugged.

"We're all wearing gloves, right?" he said, "As long as it doesn't touch your skin, you should be fine. And I haven't exactly had the chance to test this on an Asgardian before. But if you want to try knocking Thor out, be my guest." No one volunteered. "Anyway, Barton, if you don't want the sleep disk, you don't have to take it. More for me."

Not all the agents were convinced of their usefulness, but Miya tucked a few of the disks into her utility belt, grabbing a sonic rifle and a small heating torch as well. She gathered up her gear and prepared to take the first watch.

And waited.

* * *

_Author's note:_

Mean girls quote. I couldn't help myself.

As always, comments and criticism are both welcome. "I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?" - John Lennon


	4. Chapter 4

Miya sat down on her cot and rubbed her head. In addition to the biting cold and the dismal amount of sleep she'd had in the past 48 hours, a series of questions kept running through her head. She idly pulled her knife out of her boot and started to toss it in the air, watching the light glint off the blade as she thought.

_Why would Loki return to Earth?_

There had to be a reason beyond retrieving the Casket. The Casket was a weapon, and he must have a purpose for it.

_Revenge?_

It had to be more complicated than that. Of course, most villains didn't bother about being sufficiently complicated. It would be just typical if Loki came back cackling and rubbing his hands together, throwing cheesy one-liners about revenge being a dish best served cold. Ice cold.

Ugh.

If Loki was giving another shot at becoming king of the world (and that seemed unlikely after how badly he'd been beaten last time), he would have to have some major fire-power. Last time he'd had the Tessaract and an army; did he believe the Casket could compensate for their loss? If it was so powerful, why hadn't he used it the first time?

Thor had mentioned how sudden Loki's departure was. Given past experience, Miya did not put too much stock in Thor's ability to judge his brother's character. However, what was interesting was the fact that he was able to track Loki in the first place. In the past he'd been able to completely hide his movements. It was sloppy of him to leave a trail, and from what Miya'd seen, Loki wasn't sloppy.

Arrogant, yes. Sloppy, no.

So Loki left in a hurry, without preparation, neglecting to properly cover his tracks.

Miya flipped the knife.

What could send Loki back to the site of his humiliation?

The blade in her hand reflected the glittering ice, shining like starlight as she twirled it between her fingers.

Why did he need the Casket now? Could something have scared him? Something he did not think Asgard could protect him from – or would be willing to? But what could that something be?

It wasn't a pleasant thought. Shaking her head at the mental image, Miya tucked away the knife and lay back on the cot. All agents were sleeping in full gear. Attempting to sleep, anyway. It wasn't exactly comfortable, and her mind was clogged with speculations. She cursed her paranoia.

_This is ridiculous_. She usually could fall asleep near instantly in any circumstance; it was a talent most SHIELD agents developed over time. After fighting with her suspicious mind for several minutes, Miya stood up, strapped on the rest of her gear, and left the tent, walking through the makeshift camp.

Clint was pacing between the tents when he spotted her.

"Thor's in the main hall," he said, voice low, "Do you mind asking him to come in? He's really not supposed to be out there."

* * *

Thor stood in the middle of the main hall, hands clasped behind his back. The Casket emanated a strange blue light which danced in the dark heart of the mountain, reflecting off the ice so that the entire room seemed to glow.

"Thor?" Miya called softly, coming up behind him. She felt a little awkward breaking into his private thoughts.

"It reminds me of Jotunheim," the god said, looking at the frozen room around him, "I had long forgotten how beautiful ice could be."

"Jotunheim?" Miya asked.

"The realm of the Frost Giants. A land of ice and snow. The Jotuns created the Casket; it contains the heart of their power." A simple explanation, but Miya could see there was more to this than Thor was saying.

"And this troubles you?" Not the subtlest interrogation, but with Thor, subtly wasn't necessary.

"It reminds me of my brother, and of my own failings." Thor sighed, breath hanging in the frozen air. "There were so many times…" he whispered, and then cut off.

Miya realized that this was probably the time she should comfort Thor in some manner. Hesitantly, she reached out a hand, resting it on the god's arm.

"We can't change the past," she said, "We have to accept that it happened and try not to let it control us."

"If only it was that easy," Thor said, his eyes sad.

"I never said it was easy," Miya replied. She let go of his arm. "I came to remind you not to stay out here too long. Just in case."

Thor didn't respond for a moment.

"He ran away," he said quietly, "He's been running from me all this time, and I don't even know why."

* * *

Clint looked up as Miya entered his line of sight. He was checking his bow and arrows for the thousandth time, insuring that the frozen air wouldn't damage them somehow.

"Thanks for talking to Thor for me," he said, "Somehow I don't think I'm the person he wants to see most right now." Miya took a seat beside him.

"It's not as though any of what happened was your fault," Miya commented. The archer shrugged his shoulders.

"Loki's his brother," he said, "As crazy and evil as he is, Thor cares about him. And I'll be the first to admit that I'm not always the nicest guy when the topic of Loki comes up in conversation."

"Still, next time you need someone to comfort an angsty god, can we just send for his girlfriend? I suck at the touchy-feely stuff."

"An angsty god?" Clint scoffed, "Besides, who else would I send? Banner? Stark?"

"You could always send Romanov," Miya pointed out. She pulled her knife out of her boot and started to toss from hand to hand, "I must admit, it sending in Stark would have its merits."

"We'd probably have to scrape him off the wall with a spatula afterwards," Clark said, "and speaking of Stark, he's trying to find out why you have a Japanese name."

"He must really be bored," Miya said, shaking her head, "Didn't his parents ever teach him the meaning of privacy?"

"Well, he was trying to hack SHIELD databases again to find out, so I guess not. I suppose you're not going to tell him anytime soon?"

"Maybe if he asks very nicely," she said, spinning the knife in her fingers, "Which is never going to happen. I doubt that's the kind of thing SHIELD is interested in, but I've found some pretty surprising things in their databases before." Clint shot a glance at her from the corner of his eye.

He pointed at her knife, "Let me guess: Security blanket."

"I guess so," she said as she tucked the blade back into her boot self-consciously, "I've carried a knife since I was a teenager. Coulson gave this one to me when we first met."

"Too bad he's not here," Clint commented.

"Yeah," Miya sighed, thinking of her mentor, "But he's busy with his team. It's good to see you again, Clint."

Before he could reply, a quiet ping echoed through their communicators.

Miya could feel the tension suddenly build.

"He's here," Clint said softly. They stood and moved to their positions as the lights went dark.

* * *

A silent figure entered the main hall. The only light in the room emanated from the Casket on the opposite side, reflecting off of the metal of his armor.

He moved forward cautiously, dark boots stepping in time with the pulsing light. He stopped barely feet away, reaching out pale hands to hover over the surface of the Casket. Green energy intertwined itself around the Casket for a moment, and then faded. A faint smile appeared on Loki's face.

Then Mjolnir crashed into his side, sending him flying as agents and Avengers poured in from the side rooms.

Mjolnir returned to Thor's hand, and he sprinted towards the trickster god. Loki had already regained his feet.

"Thor," Rogers shouted, his shield in hand, "Stick to the plan!"

"Brother," Thor called, ignoring him, "There is no need for battle. Surrender or I will not show restraint."

Loki opened his mouth to answer, but the sound was lost beneath a deep, bestial roar.

Resentment was replaced by something akin to panic as Loki was confronted by a large, angry mass of green rage. Loki turned a shade paler and took a step back.

The Hulk charged, bellowing, and Loki dove to the side. He tried to head for the Casket, but the Hulk was too fast, swiping for him. As the god dodged him, the Hulk herded him towards the designated side room. Loki ducked through the doorway, shooting a blast of energy at the Hulk as he ran.

Agents and Avengers alike cautiously inched forward, peering at the scene before them. The Hulk was chasing Loki over and under and all around the room. The latter appeared quite eager to avoid a replay of their last encounter, and the former was quite as determined to repeat it.

If it had been anyone but Loki, it would be horrifying.

But as it was Loki, it was downright hilarious.

"Well, that was easy," Stark commented. Relief flooded across the room.

Miya watched as everyone relaxed. Something felt wrong. She turned back towards the Casket, hearing Clint chuckle when Loki barely dodged the Hulk's fist.

By the altar, a tall, blue-skinned man held a pulsing blue box.

"Yes, it was," the creature said with Loki's voice.

A blast of cold swept over the room.

* * *

_Author's note:_

Cliffhanger! I'm not sorry. Well, maybe I am. Just a little. But that next portion is way too long to tag onto this chapter. Next week is going to be fun.

As always, comments and criticism are welcome. If you don't understand why something happened or spot a plot point, tell me. I may have a reason I thought was too boring to explain. If you have any suggestions: characters you want to see, plot points, interactions, etc, let me know. I've sketched the plot and written a good bit of it already, but I am always rewriting things.

And speaking of rewriting...I've done a bit. On the first chapter. Mainly I've added two new Loki bits at the beginning and in the middle. They're very short, but I felt that first chapter needed something more. I'm a serial editor, but I'm trying to stop. Seriously.

"People think dreams aren't real just because they aren't made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real. But they are made of viewpoints, of images, of memories and puns and lost hopes." - Neil Gaiman


	5. Chapter 5

In a moment half a dozen SHIELD agents found themselves imprisoned in ice, unable to move. Captain America and Thor were covered from head to toe, frozen as they turned towards the mocking voice. The thunder god's hand gripped Mjolnir in mid-swing.

The blue figure chuckled, red eyes dancing.

"When will you ever stop falling for that?"

The split-second of awareness had allowed Miya to duck and roll, escaping the onslaught as she slid behind a pillar. Agent Barton had not been as fortunate, struggled helplessly with his arms pinned to his sides. A mixture of panic and rage burned in his eyes.

In the side room, the Hulk obliviously chased an illusion. A newly built wall of ice blocked the door, preventing anyone from reaching him.

The remaining agents scattered, diving behind whatever shelter they could find. Iron Man had escaped the freezing blast and was attempting to divert attention from the fleeing agents. He shot a missile at the blue figure.

"Hey! Grumpy Smurf! Over here!"

With a flick of his hands, the glowing Casket had disappeared from "Grumpy Smurf's" hands. The cobalt tint drained from his skin, red eyes turning blue-green. He lifted his hands, causing Stark's missiles to explode mid-flight. The resulting explosion shattered the hanging stalactites, sending shards of ice raining down. Loki smirked.

"The Iron Man," he said, shaking his head, "ever arrogant. One day your tongue will be your undoing."

"I'll have to take your word for it since you would be the expert on failure around here," Stark replied, firing an energy blast at the god. Loki dodged it nimbly, sending a bolt of magic at a SHIELD agent. The magic enveloped the man, and he collapsed limply.

Natasha sprinted from the safety of one column to the next, throwing a set of electric shockers at the god. Loki sent the sparking disks flying into a small cluster of agents, leaving them writhing on the ground.

Miya moved from cover to cover. She fired a shot whenever Loki's attention appeared to be drawn elsewhere. That was not often considering the fact that he was being simultaneously attacked by Iron Man, Black Widow, and a score of highly-trained SHIELD operatives. He danced through the battlefield, deflecting and dodging blows as if it was nothing more than a choreographed routine. Miya saw a wild grin cross his face as he took down another agent.

She came across Agent Wilde's still form as she ran. With an effort she dragged him behind the safety of a bleak white pillar. Miya checked his pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive.

The magic wasn't lethal, meaning Loki hadn't killed anyone yet. He was not the kind to exercise restraint. Not without reason.

Was he planning on using them as the basis of a new army? She winced at the thought. Facing Hawkeye had been hard enough. Assuming Loki provided proper head protection this time, what would he be able to accomplish with the Avengers behind him?

Her efforts to wake Wilde were fruitless. Conceding defeat, Miya left him propped up behind a column, making her way instead to her frozen comrades. There was no way she could free Captain American or Thor; the ice was too thick. But if she could just free Barton's arms…

"Miya?" Clint whispered as she slipped behind him. Sweat poured down his face despite the ice encasing his body.

"It's all right, Clint," she said, trying to maintain a soothing tone, "I'm just trying to get you out. Keep an eye on Loki for me, okay?" She dug in her utility belt and pulled out the heating torch. Her gloved fingers fumbled with the buttons, so she pulled off her right glove with her teeth.

"Listen, Miya, I need you to do something for me." His voice was desperate. A lump formed in Miya's throat as she turned on the torch.

"If you ask me to do what I think you're going to, the answer is no."

"If he takes my mind again, please, I can't, I can't go through that again, I don't want him to use me like that, to kill my colleges, my friends…"

"That's not going to happen, Barton; you're not going to hurt any of us." His right arm was nearly free.

"You don't know that!" he hissed. His eyes followed the Black Widow as she darted across the battlefield. "He did it once, he can do it again. And the next time, Nat might not be fast enough, and I might…" he choked on his words. "Miya, please."

"If he turns you, I'll hit you upside the head as hard as I possibly can. But that's all I can promise you. You know she'd kill me if I hurt you."

"Yeah," Clint sighed, and then he stiffened, "Move!"

Miya tucked and rolled as Loki sent a blast in her direction, abandoning both the torch and her right glove at Barton's feet.

* * *

Stark was attempting to protect the more vulnerable SHIELD agents. Firing at Loki long-range, he dumped equal amounts of missiles and insults upon him. So far, he'd commented on his fashion sense, parentage, and affection for male horses. Loki was mainly ignoring him, dodging or deflecting both weapons and words while focusing on wrapping up the remaining SHIELD agents.

Miya turned on her comm.

"Stark!" she said urgently, trying to avoid attracting attention, "Ignore the agents. Go for Loki."

"Like hell I will."

"The magic is nonlethal. He knows you're protecting us. It makes you vulnerable. He's playing you, forcing you to give him an opening…"

Loki sent a fallen stalactite flying at a female agent. Tony dove to intercept it.

"Don't!" Miya cried.

The moment he touched it, jolts of energy shot through his suit as the ice flickered and vanished. Tony crashed to the floor, armor unresponsive as a comment on Loki's hair turned into a torrent of curses.

Miya bit her lower lip in frustration. He was called the trickster god for a reason. Loki casually knocked out the woman Stark had tried to protect as the billionaire lay prone nearby.

"Romanov?" Miya heard Stark's voice over the comm. His suit paralyzed, completely helpless, and yet somehow his com was still operational. Did he never shut up?

"I think everyone can agree we've reached the point for plan B."

"What do you think I've been doing?" Natasha muttered, "He's blocked every shot I've taken."

"We'll have to use the disks," Miya said. "Time to find out if they work on Asgardians."

She could hear the billionaire's eyebrows rising. "And just how do you suggest you get close enough?"

"When you faced him in the Tower, Stark, he let you talk instead of killing you on the spot," Miya reminded him, "He's proud, and he likes to play around. He might allow us to engage in hand to hand combat to show off instead of zapping us."

Tony tried to answer, but his line filled with static and died. Thank heaven for small favors.

"Worth a shot," Romanov said over the comm, "I'll face him. Any remaining SHIELD agents hang back and wait for an opportunity. Understood?"

Miya watched as Loki knocked out another agent. "I think you have a total backup of one, Agent Romanov."

"Then there's no time to waste," the red-headed Russian replied. She took a deep breath and stepped out into the middle of the room.

"I must say, I didn't expect to see you again."

Loki turned towards her.

"Agent Romanov," he almost purred, "Do you intend to bargain for the lives of your comrades? Or are you attempting to discover my intentions?" He began walking towards her, like a leopard stalking its prey. "Neither, I'm afraid, will do you any good."

The two began to circle each other, slowly moving closer and closer.

"You've been surprisingly restrained," she noted, "When you came through the portal, you killed dozens of agents without a thought. But you haven't killed anyone today."

"Are you asking me if I've had a change of heart?" Loki's eyes glinted green and blue. "There are many uses I could find for you alive. Or perhaps I simply want to make death a…special experience." He smiled at her.

"You have already told me the plans you have for my death," Romanov reminded him. "You could have taken all of us out with the Casket of Winters. But that would've been too easy. It's all a game to you, isn't it?"

"I prefer to think of it as a dance," Loki said, "intricate and weaving. But a dance is only as interesting as the variety one gives it."

"And the partner you dance with," the Black Widow added.

"Very true," Loki replied, "Care to dance, Agent Romanov?" He held out his hand with a flourish.

"With magic and the Casket of Winters? I'm afraid I don't know the steps."

"A more familiar style, then," Loki suggested, "And your little friend can cut in from time to time if you want," he glanced in Miya's direction, "as long as I get to lead, of course."

"Of course."

"Well, then, shall we dance?"

There are many things that are beautiful in life. A sunrise, a waterfall, the smile on a face of a child. Lovely, innocent things. So it seemed a little odd that when Loki and the Black Widow fought, it was beautiful. A kick, a block, a roll. Dodging, striking, ducking, retreating. Poetry in motion. Lethal poetry.

Even so, it was clear that Natasha was outmatched. She'd barely managed to take down Hawkeye when he'd fought her on the Helicarrier; she had no real chance against an Asgardian with reflexes fast enough to grab an arrow in flight. Loki was toying with her.

But Miya knew better than to jump straight in to help her. If she didn't time it right, she could throw her fellow agent off completely. Best to wait for Loki to give her an opening. She tossed aside the useless sonic gun, drew her blades, and waited for it.

In the adjoining room, the Hulk's hand gripped thin air, the illusion flickering and disappearing. As he howled in disappointment, another appeared behind him, taunting him. He mindlessly turned and pursued his prey, oblivious to the deception.

Miya neared the fighting pair as Loki moved backwards, avoiding Natasha's boot. His back towards her, Miya leapt forward, kicking out the back of his knee and slicing at his neck. Caught off guard, Loki stumbled as he turned towards her, catching her blades on the metal guards on his wrists. Flinging them outwards, he directed a single blow to the center of her chest, knocking out her breath and sending her flying. Miya tried to twist her body to land on her feet, but the slick ice sent them sliding out from beneath her. With a pained gasp, she fell heavily upon the frozen stone.

But for a moment, Loki had turned his back on the Black Widow.

Taking the opening, the Widow reached for his long, white throat, disk in hand. She was a mere hair's breadth away from the exposed skin when Loki grabbed her wrist. In a single fluid motion he twisted her arm, spinning her around with her arm pinned against her back. Loki moved his other hand to the back of her neck, pressing on the nerve center there. Natasha slumped in his grasp, and he dropped her unconscious body on the ice.

Standing over her, the manic grin faded from Loki's face. He glanced around the room, taking in his fallen enemies. His gaze settled on Thor, eyes vacant.

Then he started to laugh. First a chuckle, then with his head thrown back. Desperate, wild, uncontrollable laughter.

This didn't stop him from blocking the knife Miya threw at his throat.

"Oh, little hero," he sighed, facing her across the frozen hall, "Will your kind ever learn the meaning of futility?"

"You're the one who keeps coming back," Miya reminded him. Loki started to walk towards her, unfazed by the dual blades in her hands. He had little reason to be. The young woman had been well trained, but she could not match a thousand years of experience and the physique of a god. It took him less than ten seconds to disarm her, snapping the blades in his hands and tossing them to the side.

"Kneel," he commanded as Miya moved backwards. She pulled Coulson's knife from her boot, the hilt cold in her ungloved right hand. Loki simply smirked at the sight of the blade. Miya had to admit she looked a little pathetic. If that kept him from noticing the disk she'd hidden in her left palm, she could handle looking pathetic.

Then Loki closed the gap between them in an instant. His hand grasped her neck and he lifted her in the air. She grabbed at his arm, trying to relieve the pressure on her throat. His left hand crushed hers, forcing her drop the disk.

"There are some things I want to know," Loki said calmly, plucking the knife from her other hand and tossing it to the side. Miya dangled helplessly. She clutched at his arm as she gasped for breath. Loki's mad blue eyes bore into hers. "And you are going to tell me."

_Dear God, not my mind, please, not my mind_.

The panic on Barton's face flashed before her eyes.

"For your own comfort, I suggest that you not resist the process." He lifted his left hand to her temple.

* * *

Miya had heard of the first time Loki came to Earth. How he poured poison into minds. How he drained the wills of the strongest men until they were putty in his hands. How it all happened in an instant.

None of the indoctrinated agents remembered how it felt. At least, that's what they claimed. SHIELD researchers had several theories on the subject. A fade, some suggested: a momentary loss of feeling, and then a momentary return. Others thought it might be similar to Loki opening a door and walking through. A few argued that there would be no feeling at all. Blink and everything was over.

It did not feel like a fade or a doorway. It didn't even feel like one of Tony's personal favorites, in which Loki simply smashed his consciousness against the walls of the mind until a hole appeared. Just like a mind invading Hulk.

And it definitely wasn't a blink.

It felt as though every atom of Miya's body separated. The atoms fought and jostled one another as they rushed through microscopic pores in the fabric of the universe, dispersing themselves until all that was left of her was her mind.

Miya couldn't say that it hurt. Just how it felt; well, that was problematic. There really wasn't anything she could compare it too. It wasn't exactly something that happened to her often.

One thing was certain; she wanted it to stop. Desperately.

The world vanished along with her body. The frozen temple, her fellow agents, the hand gripping her throat. None of it existed anymore. SHIELD, the Avengers, Coulson, her mother. It was empty.

And in this emptiness, there was a voice.

A kind voice, a comforting voice. Soothing, soft, and strong – strong enough to protect her, to take her burdens, her pain, to carry them for her.

_All you have to do is let me take them, and I set you free._

For a moment, she welcomed the voice, only to remember whose voice was calling her. And yet it was so tempting…

_Your emotions are so tangled, so distressing. All you have to do is let go – only for a moment – let them slip from you. All the pain and the heartache will pour through your fingers like water, and I will be there to catch them._

He couldn't be trusted. She could not give in, no matter how much she wanted to. She'd fought too hard to let go.

_You have fought too hard not to. So many years spent fighting, wasted and gone. Empty years lined up liked empty jars on a shelf. Let me help you, lonely child._

She didn't need his help. She'd always managed on her own.

_You've always been alone._

A sense of loneliness and loss swept over her. She felt the voice embrace her, comforting her.

_You don't have to be alone anymore. I will take your burdens from you. I will give you peace, blissful peace. Relinquish your pain._

No. She pulled herself from his hold.

_Give me your past._

She pushed away the voice.

_Meaningless pain…_

The pain had shaped her. She had fought too long not to hold onto it.

He would not take it from her.

Slowly, Miya began to regain awareness. How much time had passed she did not know. How did time work in that strange dream-world? Did time even exist there? The other laws of nature seemed to have taken a vacation.

Her atoms began to regroup, tumbling around until they fell back in position and reattached themselves. As her body reassembled itself, for a brief, sweet, moment, Miya enjoyed the sensation of all her atoms connecting properly.

That is, until Loki's hand reformed around her throat.

* * *

"Such a pity," Loki said, sighing softly. His breath misted in the frozen air of the temple. Miya was still dangling mid-air, but her hands were hanging limply by her sides. "I had hoped to avoid breaking you."

As he pressed his fingers back into her temple, Miya's right hand slipped into her belt. As she raised it, she fought the returning sense of dissipation.

She brought her hand to her throat, as though to attempt to pry his hand away.

Her body was nearly gone again, and the voice was not so kind.

She pressed the disk against the exposed skin of his hand.

_You will submit to me._

With a final effort, Miya triggered the disk.

* * *

_Author's note:_

Aaaaaaand we have another cliffhanger, folks. I'm not trying to be cruel. I think. I'm trying to keep chapters between 1500-3000 words, and this one is a tad over my limit as it is.

I love reviews. As in, I wave my hands and make little squealing noises when I get one. And I'm more than happy to explain any questions you may have (without giving major spoilers) and give hints and snippets of what's to come.

If you have any suggestions for plot points, interactions, characters you'd like to see, etc, let me know. Not everything's set in stone; you may end up influencing the story. Likewise, if you spot plot holes, poor writing, grammar, etc, please tell me.

"Dreams have only one owner at a time. That's why dreamers are lonely." - Erma Bombeck


	6. Chapter 6

Clint Barton smashed the last of the ice encasing his legs, falling to his knees with a grunt. He took a moment to rub some life back into his frozen limbs. Then he walked towards the prone figures lying in the middle of the room.

He leaned over a black-suited woman, patting her cheeks and shaking her gently. The Russian assassin groaned. "Tasha, wake up. Come on, I need you."

Clint barely managed to grab the hand that reached for his throat.

"Hey! It's Clint, it's okay, you're safe," he said hastily. Glancing over at the figures of Loki and the entire team, he amended his statement, "Well, safe-ish."

"Sorry," Natasha apologized, opening her eyes, "Loki's the last thing I remember. What happened?" Clint placed a hand on her back and helped her sit up.

"He knocked you out and grabbed Miya," he explained, "I think he was trying to turn her, but it looks like it's harder to do without the scepter."

Or Clint's mind might just be weak. But he locked this thought away for later perusal and self-loathing. "Loki had her by the throat, and she zapped him with one of Stark's sleep disk things. That was about ten minutes ago."

Natasha observed the prone figures; Loki had fallen forward and was draped over Miya's smaller form. "We need to restrain Loki," Natasha said, rising to her feet, "We can't be certain how long the disk will work on him."

"That was the plan," Barton said, pulling out a set of restraints, "But I wanted backup just in case he was pulling another trick or woke up in angry smurf mode."

"I'll cuff," she said, taking the restraints from him, "You cover." They cautiously approached the fallen god, an arrow taunt in Barton's bow. Natasha pulled the god's arms behind his back. She could barely see Miya underneath all the leather and metal.

"Why is Ayuma unconscious? Was she knocked out when Loki fell on top of her?"

"She wasn't wearing her right glove," Clint said her, "so it knocked them both out." Natasha secured the restraints before rolling Loki off the smaller agent.

"He's heavier than he looks," Natasha grunted, "Got another pair of restraints?"

"I doubt these would fit on his legs, Nat," Clint said.

"Not for Loki," she said. The assassin flipped Miya over and pulled her hands behind her back. Her tone was unapologetic. "You said he was messing with her mind. Better safe than sorry."

"Just be gentle," Clint said as he handed her another pair, "she might have broken something when Loki flattened her."

"By the way," Natasha said, seemingly focused on fastening the restraints, "when Ayuma was trying to free your arms – your comm was on."

Clint flushed slightly. "Oh," he said, in a display of eloquence. They both knew this was as close as they would get to discussing what he had said, and why. Natasha fastened the restraints on Miya's hands.

"Now we just have to wake up all the agents, get Stark out of his suit, and defrost Cap and Thor," Clint said, rubbing his still half-frozen arms.

"What about Banner?" Natasha asked.

"I haven't heard him recently, so I'm guessing that either he's out cold or Hulk's making snow angels."

"Great," she sighed, "I claim Rogers and Thor. Stark hasn't had anyone to listen to him for nearly fifteen minutes, and I don't think I can handle that right now."

* * *

_"Am I cursed?"_

("Just you and me, sweetheart.")

_"Know your place, brother."_

(The box was always too empty.)

_"What am I?"_

("That is not my daughter. She never was.")

_"It is not time for you to die. You are not fit to grace Death's presence"_

("We just weren't good enough for him. Not you, not me. Never forget that.")

_He was just standing there, looking at his sons. Staring._

("You have a chance to make a difference in the world.")

_"I will save you."_

* * *

The first thing Miya was aware of was the restraints on her arms and legs. Following that was the sensation that she had been run over by a bus. A heavy one of the Norse variety.

The tangled dreams which surged around her disappeared in a flutter. Keeping her eyes closed, Miya analyzed her situation.

Sprained ankle, possible concussion, one, no, two cracked ribs. IV in arm, stiff sheets, loose gown replacing her body armor. The rhythmic beep of machines, the scent of disinfectants. A hospital. Basic restraints. No sedatives.

Weapons removed. Mobility restrained. Body compromised.

Estimated time for escape: 6.5 minutes.

"Miya," a familiar voice broke through her plans, "it's all right. You're back at SHIELD headquarters. No need to plan an escape route." Miya forced open her eyes and tried to focus on the man seated beside her. He looked so ordinary and yet so out of place, black suit contrasting against the sterile white walls of the hospital room.

"Coulson," Miya rasped, a faint smile appearing on her face at the sight of her mentor, "I guess all of this," she tugged lightly at one of the restraints, "means that I'm still alive. That's good news."

"Not only are you alive, but SHIELD has Loki," Coulson replied, "Stark's disk took both of you out. They just turned it off."

"And my team? The Avengers? Is everyone…"

"They're all fine, thanks to you."

A couple of doctors bustled into the room, checking her vitals and her pulse. As they examined her, Miya noted the yellow and purple bruises that decorated her body. Her neck doubtlessly bore Loki's handprint. She foresaw a few weeks wearing long sleeves and scarves. Nothing she hadn't done before.

"Why aren't you with your team?" she asked Coulson, squinting as the doctors shone a light into her eyes, "I thought you were on a mission."

"This took precedence," he answered, then amended his statement, "Fury wanted me nearby in case Loki pulled anything. Since I did such a marvelous job stopping him the last time he escaped SHIELD custody." They both ignored the fact that he was sitting with her, not keeping vigil over Loki.

"Will I be getting out of these restraints anytime soon?" Miya asked. Coulson looked apologetic.

"We didn't know if you'd be in control of yourself when you woke up. They just need to double check a few things."

Miya fought the trapped feeling that rose within her. "And how long should that take?" she said, addressing the question to the room in general. One of the doctors looked up from a nearby screen.

"We're almost finished with the basics, but we still have to run some more tests on your brain."

"Good luck with that," Coulson said, "her brain has confused many a good man."

"Well," Miya said resignedly, "at least it's warmer here." She glared at Coulson, "Which reminds me; sending me to that icebox? That's going on my list."

* * *

Loki gently tested the restraints on his arms and legs.

He had woken up moments ago in a cell, the ghosts of strange dreams vanishing from his thoughts. Bringing to mind the last moments before he fell unconscious, he remembered pushing into the woman's mind, his hand gripping her throat. The sudden presence of a cold circle on his skin –

_Idiot_, he scolded himself. _She took advantage of your weakness._ He should have crushed her mind and left her broken alongside her fallen comrades.

But none of that mattered now. From the looks of things, SHIELD held him captive. Again. Not only that, but they'd stripped him as he slept, no doubt searching for hidden weapons and the Casket. Adding insult to injury were the baggy orange garments they'd dressed him in. At least he'd managed to secure the Casket before his ignoble defeat. He smiled quietly to himself as he remembered the look on his brother's frozen face.

* * *

"Why is he smiling?" Steve asked.

"Because he's a creepy psychopathic super villain from space, that's why," Tony said. They were watching Loki through the observation window into his cell along with the rest of the Avengers. "It's not like waking up in a cell is something he isn't used to."

"It's time we talked to him," Fury said, "Stark, come with me. We need to test your security measures."

"Is it just me, or does Tony look at little too happy about this?" Steve asked as the two left the room.

"His ego was a little bruised when Loki immobilized him," Clint replied, "he doesn't handle being shown up very well." He and Natasha were sitting at a table in the middle of the observation room. Thor monopolized the observation window, still largely silent.

"It's not as though he was the only one responsible," Bruce commented. He was leaning against the wall, positioned exactly where he could avoid seeing Loki. His usual self-depreciating smile was a little more strained than usual.

"It wasn't your fault, Banner," Natasha said. The doctor looked at her through his shaggy brown hair.

"It was my plan, Agent Romanov," he reminded her, "Hill was right to object to it. We came out of this by the skin of our teeth."

"I was the commanding officer, Bruce," Steve said, "I let down my guard. There's plenty of blame to go around. Let's just focus on the fact that we currently have Loki in custody."

Bruce shifted and sighed. "I'd been trying to forget that."

* * *

The cell rather reminded Loki of the one he had in Asgard. This was rather depressing once he thought about it. The primary differences involved the fact that the security here had no magic to reinforce it. Otherwise, he could squint his eyes and trick himself into believing he had never escaped; that the wall in front of him was a magic barrier and not clear acrylic, that the bunk beneath him bronze and not iron, that he could sit for months and not have to worry that Thor would visit him.

Loki sat on the bunk facing the glass, leaning back against the wall, long legs stretched out in front of him. A door opened on the adjoining room, allowing Fury and Stark to enter.

"Director Fury," Loki said pleasantly, "So good to see you again. You are truly gracious in your hospitality, though the welcoming committee you sent me was a mite frosty. Still, I'm glad to see that Earth's mightiest heroes are at their best."

"Here's what's going to happen," Fury said, ignoring Loki's light jabs. He stood with his arms clasped in behind him, legs spread and planted. "We are going to ask you some questions which you will then answer. Once we have our answers, your brother will haul you back to Asgard, and you will never show up here again. Is that clear?"

"Exactly how do you intend to accomplish this?" Loki asked, the image of innocent curiosity, "I'm afraid your plans have a nasty habit of going awry." Stark smirked at him from where he leaned against the wall.

"Remember this?" he held up a small metal disk between two fingers, "Maybe not, you were kind of unconscious before you noticed it. I modified it while you were napping. Now all I have to do is push this" his finger hovered over a command "and…" he pushed the button.

Loki's head slumped forward, his body limp.

* * *

Miya had resisted the doctor's insistence that she use a wheelchair, only acquiescing when Coulson threatened to knock her out again. She was trying to convince the aide pushing the chair to pop a wheelie when she suddenly went limp. Coulson caught her before she fell from her seat.

"What just happened?" he looked at the doctor accompanying them, "She's unconscious." In a moment her eyes fluttered open.

"Coulson?" Miya said, hospital gown rustling as the agent helped her upright, "Why did you knock me out this time?"

* * *

"That worked well," Stark said, a hint of relief in his voice as he flicked off the control. Loki straightened himself.

"Anytime you misbehave, I activate this," the billionaire said, a little too gleefully, "I collected a whole bunch of data during our last little skirmish. This baby's set to turn on if you pull out the Casket of Winters" he flicked the switch on and off "use magic without permission" flick "or basically just tick me off" flick. Loki's eyes had been opening and closing at such a rapid pace that it almost looked like he was having a seizure.

* * *

"Is she having a seizure?" Coulson's demand was ignored by the flock of medical personal rushing Miya down the hall on a gurney. She had gone in and out of consciousness several times in rapid succession.

"Coulson?" she muttered, turning her head to find that he had pushed his way to her side. Miya clutched the sleeve of his suit jacket. "What's happening to me?"

The agent had pulled out his phone.

"I want Stark on the phone. Now."

* * *

"This just doesn't get old," Tony chuckled, "So, basically, you go Grumpy Smurf on us again and…"

"…excuse me, Director Fury," an anxious-looking agent poked his head through the door, "Agent Coulson needs to talk to Mr. Stark. He says it's urgent."

"How urgent?" Fury asked, annoyed, muting the speakers that allowed them to speak to Loki.

"It's 'I-will-put-nude-photos-of-Agent-Romanov-on-your-p hone-and-ensure-Pepper-Potts-finds-them' urgent," the sweating agent recited. Tony raised his eyebrows.

"He has access to those? I mean, all right, but can you transfer the call to my earpiece? I don't like being handed things."

Tony turned on the earpiece. "Coulson, this had better be good, we're right in the middle of laying down the law with our guest, and you're totally cramping my style." He listened for a moment, and then his eyebrows scrunched together.

"Oh," he said. "Oh. Oh. Ohhhhhh." He looked down at the disk in his hand and made a face. "This happened how many times? Oh. I'll be there in a sec."

"What exactly is going on?" Fury asked. Tony glanced over at Loki and back at Fury.

"We might want to discuss this elsewhere," Tony said. He flipped on the sound to Loki's cell.

"Like I said, behave or I'll zap you. We'll be back with that questionnaire in a moment."

"Trouble in paradise?" Loki asked. He'd been watching them intently. Tony just flipped off the sound and left the room.

After the door was closed behind them, Fury demanded, "Now's the time you tell me why we just interrupted this interrogation."

"Actually," Tony said, "Now's the time I grab Banner and have Coulson explain everything to both of you at once. Oh, and we probably should grab Thor, too – and Clint. And Natasha and Steve can tag along so they don't feel left out."

Tony started to walk away, only to be stopped by the sound of Fury's voice.

"_Now_, Stark."

Tony winced a bit.

"It appears that there were some minor side effects."

* * *

"Minor side effects? She passes out every time you activate that thing."

The Avengers were assembled in another observation room, only this time, Miya was the one on the other side of the glass. She'd already undergone a barrage of tests and was sitting in a hospital bed. Electrodes were on her forehead and a longsuffering look on her face.

"I modified this one specifically to knock out Loki, and only Loki," Tony answered Coulson, waving the disk, "It shouldn't be affecting both of them."

"How is it that you're able to knock them out remotely?" Banner asked, adjusting his glasses while examining another disk, "I thought these had to touch skin."

"The first time, yes," Tony said, shifting a bit, "When the disk is activated, it accesses the part of the brain that triggers sleep. It maps out patterns which are a bit different for everyone. After that, the disks can be used remotely, so long as you program them to specific people. That's one of the main reasons the FDA wouldn't approve them. Pepper actually uses them on me whenever she thinks I'm not sleeping enough." Multiple people filed away the knowledge that it was possible to remotely knock out Stark at any time.

"So both Loki and Agent Ayuma have the same frequency?" Coulson asked.

"No, and that's the weird part. They have unique patterns of their own, so they shouldn't be triggered at the same time."

"Test triggering Agent Ayuma's pattern," Fury ordered, "Let's see if it affects Loki."

Tony nodded and brought up the feed to Loki's cell on a screen. Then he turned on the sound to the hospital room.

"We're about to turn on the disk again, so lay back and don't freak out." Miya didn't respond beyond leaning against the pillows.

"Alright, testing in three, two, one…" Tony triggered the device.

* * *

_She pulled a blue ribbon from her hair, sending her golden hair tumbling around her shoulders…_

_…silver tears tracing down her cheeks…_

_"I find I cannot bear the thought of you caged. If it is within my power to free you, I will…"_

_"You saved me once. Allow me to repay the favor…"_

_"Our father… has forbidden her to have any contact with you…"_

_The pitch-black bird swooped into the center of the room and burst into a green mist. With a sigh the mist sank to the marble floor, gathering itself into a single white rose…_

_"I will save you."_

* * *

Miya woke once again, but this time she didn't push the remnants of her dream away.

"Well, that confirms it. One of them gets knocked out, the other one does to," she heard Tony say. The image of the blonde woman flashed before her eyes, "Now we just have to figure out why."

"It's kind of obvious," Clint said. Miya could see him through the observation glass. He was perched on the back of a chair, his feet on the seat. "They got zapped at the same time by the same disk."

Miya closed her eyes. She'd dreamt about that woman every time the disks had knocked her out.

"It has to be more than that," Tony argued, "I tested using the disk on multiple people simultaneously, and nothing like this ever happened."

The woman had blue eyes, deep and clear and kind. Miya tried to remember her name.

"Loki was inside her mind when she activated the disk," Coulson said.

"You're suggesting that…"

"Director Fury," Miya interrupted Tony. Those in the observation room turned her way, having almost forgotten her presence. "I have a question for Thor."

Thor moved towards the observation window. Miya looked him in the eyes.

"Do you know a woman named Sigyn?"

* * *

_Author's note:_

And here's were things get interesting. Very, very interesting. *maniacal laugh*

As always, comments and criticism are both appreciated. If you have questions, requests, or speculations, let me know. I will answer the questions, consider the requests, and be vague and cryptic with the speculations.

The chapters will probably start getting shorter as the holidays come up and life gets crazy. But I will do my best to keep updating.

"I'll let you be in my dreams if I can be in yours" - Bob Dylan.


	7. Chapter 7

A look of shock passed across Thor's face. It was quickly followed by anger.

"How do you know that name?" he demanded.

"She had blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin," Miya said calmly, her dark eyes locked with Thor's, "and she was special to Loki."

"Who told you this?" Thor said in a commanding voice. He looked over at Fury. "How did SHIELD learn of Sigyn?"

_The woman was real._ But that meant...

"This is the first I've heard of her," Fury responded sharply, breaking Miya's train of thought, "Agent Ayuma, where did you acquire this information?"

Miya brushed her dark hair out of her face. "I've been having strange dreams every time the disk is activated," she said, "At first I thought it was just a side effect of the device. But she kept showing up. I was going to report this, sir, when I was debriefed," she told Fury. She looked back at Thor. "Who is she?"

"Sigyn was a good woman, and a friend." Thor looked down. "She was Loki's wife and the mother of his children."

"Loki's _married_?" Clint asked incredulously.

"_Children_?" Steve interjected, "As in, more than one?"

"And we didn't get invited to the wedding," Tony quipped.

"Why haven't we heard about them before?" Fury asked in the midst of the general shock. Thor hesitated to answer his question.

"Something happened to them," Miya said from the other room, "I don't know what, but they're gone."

A weary look appeared on Thor's face. He rested his hands on the rail in front of the observation window, back facing the majority of those present.

"His two sons – my nephews – were murdered in front of him," the big man said quietly, "Sigyn was killed in battle. It happened long ago, and we do not speak of them."

_But he dreams about her_._ And now, so do I._

"What else have you been dreaming about?" Fury asked Miya.

"A lot of things, sir," Miya answered, "I don't remember in detail, but they didn't seem to be normal dreams. They were more like memories. And if the woman is real, than the other dreams could be as well."

"You can see Loki's memories in your sleep?"

"How can we know these are accurate? I've dreamt some pretty weird stuff before."

"I once dreamt I was a taco competing in a marathon. Then I ate myself."

"Freud would have a field day with you."

"What kind of memories? Attacks, plans, or anything of that sort?" Fury asked, ignoring the surrounding chatter.

"If Loki ever wrote down a master plan, he hasn't dreamt about it. Just random memories. And not all of the dreams came from Loki," Miya said, hesitating a bit, "some were mine. They were accurate."

_Vividly, painfully so_.

"Sir, if Miya can dream about Loki's memories, it would be likely that he could dream about hers as well," Clint pointed out. Fury cursed.

"Coulson, I want the security of everything Ayuma has ever seen, heard, touched, smelt, or been in close proximity of to be checked and double-checked. Revoke all clearance granted her; treat this as an infiltration." He turned to the glass. "No offense, Ayuma."

"None taken," Miya replied, though the thought that Loki might be lingering in her mind made her skin crawl. "If it's any comfort, my clearance has been limited these last two months. Most everything SHIELD-related he might find would involve kitty litter."

"Why would SHIELD be interested in kitty litter?" Steve whispered to Bruce. Bruce shrugged his shoulders.

"Is there any kind of pattern in the dreams?" Coulson asked, "Anything at all that might suggest why you dream about specific memories?" Miya paused for moment as she thought, running her fingers through her tangled hair. She really needed a brush.

"Apart from the ones about Sigyn, they all seem to be nightmares." She wasn't just referring to Loki's memories, either.

Fury cursed again.

"Stark, Banner, the two of you need to start working on whatever it is that's going on. Normally I would wait to determine how this is affecting them before we proceed, but given how well things tend to go while Loki's in custody, we need to get this over and done with as soon as possible. The rest of us are going to try to defrost Loki before he does something crazy."

"Director Fury," Coulson spoke up, "I request that I be assigned to work point with Stark and Banner. I know Miya better than anyone else here. If Loki starts messing with her brain, I'd be the first to notice."

"Permission granted," Fury said to Miya's relief, "Everyone else, move out."

As the other members of the team poured from the room, Bruce and Tony were already diving deep into discussion.

_"Is it temporary or permanent?"_

_"Does it work only when the disk is activated, or in normal sleep?"_

_"Do they both have to be asleep?"_

_"Do they both experience the same dream?"_

_"Can Loki affect more than dreams?"_

"Does that thing get cable?" Miya asked Coulson as he entered the observation room. He turned on the screen on the wall.

"No, but there are reality TV shows I'm sure you would be interested in." Coulson started flipping through surveillance feeds. "Let's see: 'Cafeteria Chronicles', 'Weird Science', 'How Many Guns Can We Fit in One Room', and my personal favorite, 'Interview with a Power-Hungry God'."

"Really? I thought your favorite was "Watching Ice Melt: Defrosting a Legend," Miya teased. Coulson flushed.

* * *

"Why did you return to Earth?" Fury stood in front of the cell. Loki looked bored.

"To retrieve what was mine."

"Why did you leave Asgard? Why now?"

"I was having bad dreams."

Fury crossed his arms. "You know we're going to get to the truth sooner or later. Why delay the inevitable? The sooner you tell us the truth, the sooner we'll be out of your hair."

"You assume that I'm lying," Loki said with a wounded look, "I can assure you, Director, that everything I have told you has been accurate."

"The word I would use is vague. Care to elaborate?"

Loki smiled. "Very well then: the truth is that I did you a favor by removing the Casket. In a matter of years it would have covered your world in ice. Any efforts to remove it yourself would have failed, and I doubt the Odinson would have been helpful." More likely that the oaf would have tried hitting it with Mjolnir and turned the planet into a block of ice.

"So we should be thanking you for removing a threat you put here in the first place while you were attempting to conquer and kill us?" Fury said with a raised eyebrow.

"On Asgard the proper method of giving thanks is a parade and a feast, but I'm sure a heartfelt note will do in your case."

"How about you just answer our questions so we can send you back to Asgard where you can enjoy all those parades they're having in your honor?"

* * *

"They throw you parades in Asgard?" Clint asked, talking to Thor's back, "I want a parade. I think we've earned a parade." He directed the last part to Natasha, who simply ignored him.

Banner entered the room before anyone else could respond. "Thor, Tony needs you. We're trying to get Agent Ayuma to remember the dreams, and he wants you on hand to authenticate anything that comes from Loki."

"Very well." Thor moved from his position by the window and left the room. Steve looked at Bruce with expectantly.

"Aren't you going back with him?"

Bruce shook his head as he settled into a chair facing away from the cell. "Tony's experiments have a tendency to be…unsettling. I think it's wisest to err on the side of caution."

"Bruce," Clint said, "What do you think about parades?"

* * *

Tony turned off the video feed of Loki's cell. Miya glared at him. He didn't really deserve it, not this time, but it had been a very trying week. Even by SHIELD standards.

"Here," Stark handed Miya a sleep mask, "Put this on."

"I don't need a sleep mask," Miya informed him.

"This isn't an ordinary sleep mask," Tony replied, "Ever heard of lucid dreaming?"

"Lucid dreamers are aware that they are dreaming and can control the dream state," Miya rattled off, "They also remember more of their dreams. You think lucid dreaming will allow me to experience and remember Loki's memories?

"That's how it works for normal dreams, so hopefully it works for weird brain-invading magicky ones."

"Here's the problem," Miya said, "I actually was a lucid dreamer for a while. I trained myself to regularly check my environment for signs I was dreaming: clocks, my hands, etc. After a few weeks I checked it in my sleep and became aware that I was dreaming. But I stopped years ago, and now I'm out of practice."

"Really?" Tony asked curiously, "Why did you stop?"

Miya smiled grimly. "Lucid nightmares."

Looks like she'd be having those again.

"Well, this should help!" Tony said, holding up the mask, "Not with the nightmare bit, but with the lucid bit. Whenever you enter REM sleep, it flashes red lights. Not strong enough to wake you up, but enough to cause you to see red while you're dreaming. It should make you realize that you're dreaming."

"When did you create this?" Miya asked, looking for the Stark Industries logo.

"Sadly, I didn't invent the mask. I'm only one genius; I can't create every major breakthrough in technology and design fashionable sleepwear too. Anyway, we're going to trigger the disk for a ten minute period. When you wake up, you're going to tell us what you dreamed about. If it's one of your memories, Coulson may be able to authenticate it. And if it's one of Loki's, Thor will try to authenticate it."

Coulson smiled encouragingly from his seat by the bed. Thor stood a short distance away, arms crossed.

"Stark to the Star Spangled Banner, I am about to commence testing. Please keep all hands and arms inside the vehicle and don't feed the trolls. Testing in ten, nine…"

Miya pulled the elastic band in place, lying back against the stiff pillows. As Stark counted down, she closed her eyes and let the disk carry her under yet again.

"...three, two, one..."

* * *

_Loki clung to the golden spear, the Void beneath him swallowing the shattered pieces of the Bifrost. As the rainbow shards fell into the eternal black, a red light pulsed suddenly._

What was that light? Red light…a dream.

_Jolts of pain shot through him. He'd failed. Again. Bested by the Golden Son._

Not a dream. A nightmare. A memory.

_Beyond the jagged edge of the bridge, Loki could see his father, grasping Thor's leg. He was just standing there, looking at his sons. Staring. Loki gazed back into his father's eye._

She looked through Loki's eyes, struck by the vacant expression on Odin's face: so empty, so cold. Loki's emotions beat within her chest.

_His father just stood there. Why didn't he pull them up? Did he not have the strength?_

Does he want his son to fall?

_His hand was slipping._

Pull him up, please pull him up.

_His father would understand. He had to. That he was worthy of their love, that he was more than a monster. That they were right not to leave him to die._

_"I could have done it, Father! I could have done it! For you. For all of us."_

_Odin looked him in the eyes._

_Loki's hand was mere inches from the end of the spear. He couldn't hold on much longer._

Pull him up. Please pull him up pull him up pull him up pull him…

_"No, Loki."_

_Unworthy._

_Unwanted._

_Unloved._

_Loki looked at his father as his face emptied._

_No._

_He released his slipping grasp._

_Miya's screams mingled with Thor's as the Void consumed the fallen prince._

* * *

Miya woke screaming.

The darkness of the Void surrounded her, and she lashed out, trying to find something to hold onto in the emptiness. Hands reached out and restrained her, pushing her back against the bed. Someone tore the mask from her face. The light blinded her eyes.

"Breathe."

Her body responded to the familiar command, and she inhaled deep, sobbing gulps of air, fighting the scream which still lingered in her throat. Coulson and Thor released their hold on her as she stopped thrashing. Tony stood to the side, face white as he clutched the mask in his hands.

"It was just a dream," Coulson reminded her, "You're safe. It's over." Miya focused on her breathing exercises. It wasn't real. It was just a dream. Just a dream.

But it wasn't.

It was a memory.

It had happened.

_No, Loki._

"Tell me about the dream," Coulson said, "Was it yours or Loki's?"

"She just woke up screaming," Tony objected, "shouldn't we give her time to calm down first?"

"The longer we wait, the more likely it is that she forgets something," Coulson replied evenly.

"He's right," Miya interjected. It was better to get this over with. "It was one of Loki's memories."

Thor sucked in a breath. He clenched his teeth and listened intently.

Miya closed her eyes and began slowly. "There was a bridge…the Bifrost. Loki and Thor were dangling off of it. His father…Odin…had Thor by the leg, and Thor was holding onto a spear, and Loki had the other end. He was holding onto the spear, and there was nothing beneath him except for emptiness and eternity." That was strangely poetic. Was being inside Loki's head affecting her speech?

"Anyway," she filed away the thought, "he was slipping, and he told his father…that he could have done it. For all of them. I don't know what _it_ was, but he was trying to prove himself, to show that he was worthy.

"And Odin said no."

Miya looked down at her hands. The sense of emptiness and despair swept over her again.

"And he let go, and he fell." Her body started to tremble at the memory. "He kept falling and falling, and there was nothing but emptiness inside and outside and it was tearing at him and he was screaming and nothing stopped the falling and he couldn't even die…"

Minutes later, Miya realized that her face was buried in someone's chest. She forced her hands to open, releasing the cloth they had clutched. Taking a single deep breath, Miya pulled away, a pair of arms letting go of her. Coulson straightened out his suit jacket.

_Breathe_, she reminded herself.

"Well," she said, the waver in her voice barely discernible, "That's all that happened in the dream." Miya glanced at the wet patch on Coulson's chest. It was rather large, embarrassingly so. At least she hadn't grabbed Thor. Or Tony. It was mortifying enough she had cried in front of them like a little girl.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried.

"Did this happen, Thor?" Coulson asked the thunder god.

"Four or five years ago," Thor said. He looked as disturbed as Tony, though for admittedly different reasons.

"Then these are Loki's memories," Miya said, "I would suggest that we wait at least an hour before I try again." Tony looked at her incredulously.

"Again?" he said, "We can't just put you under again, not after…you're going to have a nervous breakdown." Miya just looked at Tony.

"My mind has not yet adapted to handling another's emotions. Over time, I'll learn to separate myself from Loki's memories." She said this with a greater confidence than she felt.

"That will be up to Fury," Coulson told her, "if Loki cooperates, there shouldn't be a need for you to do this again."

"Right," Miya said, "If Loki cooperates."

Which was something they all knew there was a snowball's chance in hell of happening.

"Agent Coulson," Thor said, "I need to speak with Loki."

* * *

_Author's note:_

First of all, sorry for not updating last week. I was visiting my sister over the weekend and didn't have time to polish this chapter properly. I'll do my best to update weekly, but with the holidays coming up that might not happen. But fear not! I have no intentions of abandoning this any time soon.

Secondly, please review/comment/question. I really appreciate it.

"I walk a lonely road/the only one that I have ever known/Don't know where it goes/But it's home to me and I walk alone/My shadow's the only one that walks beside me/My shallow heart's the only things that beating/Sometimes I wish someone out there would find me/Till then I walk alone/I walk this empty street/On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams/Where the city sleeps/And I'm the only one and I walk alone" - Green Day


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